Friends
by seventhSINwrath
Summary: For Kamerreon's 'One Drabble a Day Challenge---for One Hundred Days'. Pre-Slash. Pre-Crona/Harry. 'If Crona had a childhood friend......' Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Friends

**Warning: **Pre**-**Slash.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Soul Eater or Harry Potter.

**Summary: **Snap Shot Moment: If Crona had a childhood friend.

**Pairing: **Pre**-**Crona/Harry

**Notes: **Harry is 7, Crona 8. Crona is _male_ and Harry is a weapon (a chain scythe). I _will _be doing a full story with this later, but for the moment it's just a drabble. Harry ran away from the Dursley's.

**Cross Over: **Soul Eater/Harry Potter

**Word Count: **402 (only actual Drabble)

_**One Drabble a Day Challenge (Post a drabble everyday for 50 days) Date: September 1st, 2009**_

_**The first. Er! I had so many written already--24--I was pulling my hair out trying to figure which one to use, so I used this one because I thought it was cute. Enjoy!**_

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Friends

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Running around and wailing, Crona wildly batted his arms as Ragnarok mercilessly noogied before a sythe blade--connected to a chain---slammed into his face, sending him crashing into the wall as small, barley 4'3 dark-haired child—whose right arm was the scythe blade in question—glared at him, hands on his hips.

"Ragnarok! How many time do I have to tell you to stop being mean to Crona? And let him eat! He's skinny enough as it is."

Harry glared, huffing before turning a beaming smile to a teary eyed Crona as Ragnarok staggered up, holding his bleeding (non-existent) nose.

"Don't worry—I made you a second lunch, Crona. See! It's your favorite—tomato and cream cheese on Italian breed. I even cut the tomatoes into little stars! And I found a strawberry soda we can share, too, along with the cookies I just made. They're sugar cookies shaped into little moons—I even iced on their smiles with vanilla icing!"

Harry beamed, chatting happily and pulling the older boy into the direction of the blanket he set up, a plate of two sandwiches, cookies and a soda on the blanket, waiting patiently for them. Crona smiled shyly, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his black dress before sitting down with his best—and only—friend to enjoy his specially made lunch, sitting as close to Harry as he could.

Ragnarok appeared moments later, attempting to steal his sandwich only to get smacked by Harry again, who had changed his arm back into it's chain-scythe form and was waving it at the bigger weapon threateningly.

"But _Harry_! I'm hungry! And you make such good sandwiches!"

Ragnarok whined, his voice pouty and childish. Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed.

"There are some more sandwiches in the basket—save some for dinner though! And let Crona eat in peace or I'll stab you!"

He added as Ragnarok fell on the basket the way a starving wolf would a fallen deer. Laughing, Harry turned to Crona who watched his weapon and friend's antic with a shy, content smile. Wrapping an arm around Crona's middle, Harry snuggled into his friend, making the pink-haired male blush and snuggle back.

Crona wished things could be like this forever, his best—and only—friend snuggled into his side and weapon (older brother) making playful jabs and stealing his food so he had to share with Harry.

What could be better?


	2. Chapter 2

Breakfast

**Warning: **Pre-Slash.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own

**Summary:** A snapshot of a normal breakfast with Crona, Harry and Ragnarok.

**Pairing: **Pre Crona/Harry.

This was originally for **Kamerreon's Drabble Challenge but I thought it would make3 more sense if it went with **_F__riends. _

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Breakfast

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The house was quiet on a level that was some-what eerie do to the mansion-like size of the house. Delicious scents wafted through the kitchen door as two figures waited---one small, the other large, one patient, the other impatient—for Harry to walk through the door with breakfast in hand and a warm on his face as he always did.

They didn't have to wait long, though. Seconds later Harry came through--his small form clad in a too big white apron and only a lilac button-up shirt that fell to his knees and served as a dress of sorts and a pair of white loose socks---a large covred plate in his small hands and an even larger, warmer smile on his face.

"Morning, Crona, Rags."

He beamed, placing the plate in front of them. The only reason Ragnarok didn't fall on it was because he knew Harry would stab him if he did and then he wouldn't get any of his delicious cooking. Crona smiled shyly at the warm smile being sent his way, toeing the ground with his shoe shyly.

"Morning, Harry."

He murmured back, looking at his best and only friend through his pink uneven fringe.

"Morning."

Ragnarok drooled, his eyes solely on the plate. Giggling at his expression, Harry carefully took the cover off and presented breakfast to the two.

Ragnarok could have fainted, he was so deliriously happy.

There, on the plate, lie a mountain of freshly made, made from scratch, still-warm French toast piled high with blueberries and strawberries, a side dish of syrup next to it. Serving them quietly, and humming lightly, Harry took his seat across from the two on their small, triangle like table—which was placed nest to the scarily large table in the dinning room—and serving himself before he noticed something.

"Oh, I forgot the milk!"

Standing up, he rushed to the kitchen. Returning moments later, Harry could feel a twitch come as he spotted Ragnarok already tormenting Crona and stealing his food. Sighing, the seven-year-old quickly changed his right arm into his chain-scythe form and slapped the larger weapon into the wall.

"Ragnarok! Stop being mean to Crona already!"

He huffed, taking his seat again and placing Crona's mug of milk in front of him, slipping two of his own untouched four French toast slices—Ragnarok was smart enough to know not to mess with his food—onto Crona's empty plate with a smile, carefully adding some of his strawberries and blueberries.

"Eat up, Crona. We're going exploring today—you'll need your energy."

He nodded, taking a bit of his own food. Smiling, Crona took his fork back from the dark haired male shyly.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry beamed, giggling when Ragnarok staggered out of the Ragnarok shaped crater in the wall, holding his (non-existent) bleeding nose.

And thus was a normal breakfast in the Gorgon home.


	3. Chapter 3

Hurt

**Warning: **Pre-Slash.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Soul Eater or Harry Potter.

**Summary: **Sis fic to _Friends _and _Breakfast_. When Harry is injured by Medusa, Crona takes care of him.

**Pairing: **Pre-Crona/Harry.

Originally for the 'Drabble a day challenge' I thought it would make more sense with the others.

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Hurt

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Blood dripped down the side of his face and his arms. He couldn't see straight and could hardly breath, staggering as he half-crawled, half-walked back to the room he shared with Crona. Whimpering, Harry cradled his broken wrist to his blood-soaked night-gown clad chest, tears swelling in his eyes at the overwhelming pain he felt.

Medusa had wanted to train with him, his form had interested her and she had pit him up against several Kishin—all at once—and he had barley made it out alive. While strong for a seven-year-old, Harry was far from being able to handle twenty-three fully grown Kishin on his own, especially without a Meister.

Seven hours later had Harry pulling himself back to his friend, in bloody rags and with more broken bones than not. Slipping inside the room, Harry would have collapsed had it not been for small arms that wrapped around him gently. Teary pale green eyes stared at him as Crona carried the half-dead Harry to their bed, carefully laying him down with Ragnarok's help before immediately going for the first aid kit under the bed. A large gloved hand ran through Harry's hair, trying to sooth the child as Ragnarok stared at him with a vacant expression.

"Harry...Harry. Stay awake...okay?"

Crona whimpered, pausing briefly in between words and staring at his best and only friend with teary eyes. Struggling quietly for breath, Harry nodded as something was slipped into his mouth. Immediately swallowing, Harry was happy to note breathing became easier.

"Is that better?.....Can you breath now?"

Crona whispered, spreading out Harry's first aid kit on the table beside him and quickly pulling out the fast working salves and creams kept there and gently spreading them on Harry wounds. Whimpering, Harry's eyes squeezed shut in pain as he rubbed it gently over his cracked ribs and Ragnarok began to gently squeeze his hand to try and take his mind off the pain.

".....nngh....hurts."

Harry hasped. He hated being weak, hated crying. He wanted to be the one to help Crona, who had been his first friend and one of the only people—besides Ragnarok—who cared for him. What he didn't know was that Crona's thoughts mirrored his own.

Crona hated seeing Harry like this. Hated to see Harry bleeding and in pain and hated being so weak that he could do nothing more than patch him up afterwards and hope he didn't die. Harry was always so kind to him: he bought him gifts on his birthday, hugged him, held hands with him. He made Crona breakfast and lunch and dinner and always smiled at him like he was the most important person in the world and he was never, ever, ever mean to him. He loved Harry so much he never wanted to see him sad or in pain but he seemed to always be getting hurt.

Moments later, a now drug-drowsy Harry fell asleep, a silent Ragnarok's hand in his own and teary eyed Crona watching him silently, holding his other hand in his own ever so gently, as if he would break with to hard a touch.

He just wanted to protect his friend.


End file.
